


Attention

by SoGayItHurts



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alexa play ‘yall don’t appreciate Marcus enough- the album’, Fake Relationship, M/M, This is so fucking cliche, first chapter is a lot more boring than I intended it to be, jesse’s fucking dumb which is a mood and also what he is irl, unrequited love? I guess? For a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-28 19:34:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoGayItHurts/pseuds/SoGayItHurts
Summary: Jesse likes attention.No, take that back, Jesse LOVES attention, he lives for attention. Jesse is an attention seeker, but not in a way that’s rude or obnoxious. Just in a way that makes him do really dumb stuff a lot of the time. Like, I don’t know, pretending to be in a relationship with his best friend.





	1. First Day Back

“How did JESSE manage to remember his passport and not you?” The woman asked, laughing softly at the two boys.

It was a fair question, Marcus and Jesse were practically opposites. Marcus was orderly, polite and a determined young lad. He was a pleasure to be around, he was kind and funny and smart with his jokes. Jesse, on the other hand, posted videos of his own tits beating to the sound of a song on his Instagram and believed he’d reached nirvana.

That, however, didn’t mean they didn’t constantly stick together. At Manchester United, when they were training with England, in their holidays, it didn’t matter. They were practically joined by the hip.

“I don’t know,” Marcus let out a single chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“But you literally checked in the car and you had it,” Jesse pointed out, and Marcus nodded.

“I’ll... go and check again,” Marcus smiled once at the man and woman and then ran out of the building, attempting to catch up with the moving car.

“Fix up, Rashford!” Jesse called out to him, acting as if he hadn’t made the same mistake more than twelve times in the past.

“Jesse, you can go down and wait with your team mates until everyone gets here,” One of the men pointed him towards the door after shaking his hand.

“Nah, I’ll just wait for Rash to come back,” Jesse shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets.

“Oh come on, Jess, you’ll be fine,” The woman said, opening the door for him and then guiding him to the room in which everyone was waiting.

——————-

“You can stop crying now, Jesse’s back,” Jesse exclaimed, causing everybody’s heads to turn and face him. He walked around the room, giving everyone a quick handshake or hug, and then sat down comfortably between Dele and Ruben.

Whenever he met up with his England National Team mates, the main buzz was around the World Cup. And here they were now. Ready for the World Cup. The room was so filled with chatters and excited laughs and bowls of pride, it was just the place for Jesse.

After a while, the boys began speaking in smaller groups, turning to the people closest to them and just having a laugh, with the exception of Dele, who was resting his head against Eric’s shoulder in utter silence. Jesse decided to approach him and was immediately greeted by the fluffy-hair Spurs boy.

Eric was beckoned over by John and a few other of the lads, and left Dele with Jesse, gently lifting the younger man’s head off his shoulder as he got up.

“Alright, Jess?” Dele asked, yawning as he spoke, clearly tired.

“YOU young man, have got some explaining to do,” Jesse said, smiling nonetheless.

“What did I do this time?” Dele asked, grinning as he anticipated Jesse’s latest reason-to-start-bickering-with-Dele.

“Remember last international break when you said it was mathematically impossible that Man Utd would end up in the top 3 by the end of the year?”

“Yeah,”

“BULLSHIT!”

“Oh come on! I thought you knew I was joking, I mean, it isn’t THAT hard to work ou-“

“You KNOW I’m not good at maths! I had to get Paul to work it out for me, after like a solid two hours of trying,” Jesse complained and Dele cracked up laughing at his friend’s idiocy.

“Sorry,” Dele tried to stop laughing but it was pretty hard.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Jesse himself attempted to hide a smile, “I trusted you... but it turns out you’re just a jealous Spurs boy,”

“What exactly am I jealous of?”

“That WE managed to get second place, whilst YOU were stuck down in third,”

“Nah, Man, I’m pretty sure you told me you were jealous of our kit,” Dele replied.

“Fuck your kits. Our kits don’t look like school uniform. You’re jealous of my physique,” 

“Big words coming from a little guy,” Dele placed his arm on top of Jesse’s head, “and a dead trim too,”

“You WISH you had a trim as perfect as mine!” Jesse smirked, and Dele was about to say something,before Eric (who had just been engaging in conversations with Ruben) turned around and wrapped an arm around Dele.

“Y’right?” Eric gently asked Dele, who nodded and pressed a gently kiss on his cheek.

“Ugh, don’t make me puke” Jesse called, covering his mouth like an eight year old child.

“Oi, you know what, you’re jealous of my boyfriend,”

Jesse stopped for a second, he wasn’t jealous of Dele having a boyfriend. Heck, he was annoyed sometimes, how they’d go all soft whenever they hung out and left him and the other lads having to deal with their constant make-out sessions.

Or he was ticked off when everyone was too busy oo-ing over ‘how cute they were’ to pay any attention to Jesse.

Or he would sometimes wonder what it felt like to have someone look at you with the amount of genuine love that you could see in Eric’s eyes when Dele had told a bad joke, or scored a goal, or sometimes just purely existed. Sometimes he wondered-

No. Jesse wasn’t jealous of anyone.

“Bold of you to assume I need Eric when I got my own boyfriend,” He smirked before he could even comprehend what he was on about.

Dele and Eric gave each other knowing looks and turned back to Jesse who was both confused and proud of himself for coming up with something so quickly.

“It’s Marcus, innit?” Dele said, patting Jesse’s shoulder. Jesse himself couldn’t think of anything to say. Yes?? No???

“I’m that predictable, huh?” He asked, but he silently cursed himself after he’d said it. He literally just completely lied and said that he was in a relationship with his best friend.

“Cute,” Dele smiled, before yawning and then placing his head back on Eric’s shoulder.

And the chatting resumed again, whilst Jesse waited for Marcus to eventually return.

———-

 

“Oi, Dier!” Kyle yelled, and the boys turned their heads face Eric, “Is Del alright?”

“Yeah, he’s just, like, five days past his bedtime,” Eric smiled, looking down at the curly hair on Dele’s head.

“Is he actually even attempting to sleep in the noise?” Trent scoffed, as Dele smiled, his eyes still closed.

“Leave him alone, he’s sleep deprived and retarded,” Eric said, and Dele playfully hit him, before wrapping his arms around Eric’s neck.

Jesse himself was waiting for Marcus to come in. He didn’t seem to be able to find anybody else who wasn’t already chatting away to the people near them, so he looked up at the door every few minutes, waiting for his friend to finally come back.

“What are you looking at, Jess?” Trent asked, as he watched Jesse’s head turn to the door every so often.

“‘M waiting for Marcus,” Jesse shrugged, to the confusement of some of his teammates.

“You’re telling me that you didn’t come here with Marcus?” Harry asked, and for a moment, some of the lads were in genuine disbelief.

“No, I came with Marcus, he just forgot his passport and went back to get it,”

Harry shook his head, almost smirking to himself.

“Honestly, you two are as bad as Dele and Eric,” Kieran stated, and Eric nodded.

“I don’t even believe that you guys aren’t in a relationship sometimes,” Kyle agreed, to which many of the lads shouted in agreement.

“Oh!” Dele’s head suddenly sprung up as he got excited to share the news, “Jess and Marcus are finally dating, I’m so proud!”

Every head in the room turned to Jesse once again, this time, there was a moment of silence.

“Kyle, you owe me five pounds!” John finally called. And Kyle angrily dashed a five pound note from his pocket and handed it to his teammate.

“Wait, wait, wait, so you’re actually together? Like, together together?” Jordan questioned, and Jesse gave him a faint nod, he seemed to enjoy the attention, he liked having people paying attention to him, so he went on with it.

He might as well keep the act up until Marcus gets here, he figured it would be a laugh.

“TWO power couples in the England national team???” Harry said, Eric and Jesse high-fived. His eyes were still firmly shut, but Jesse was sure he saw Dele smirk.

Soon enough, the noise arose again, and everyone went back to their own conversations.

—————-

Eventually, Marcus bobbed his head around the corner. 

“There he is!” Kyle called out, and there was a roar of welcomes to the young boy.

Jesse’s eyes widened when he realised that the boys would bring up the couple topic with Marcus, and he suddenly understood that that wasn’t so much of a good idea. What if Marcus thought Jesse actually LIKED him and he’d get awkward around him? What if Marcus felt uncomfortable at the thought of being in a relationship with his best friend? What if things got weird? No thanks.

Marcus beamed as he walked in, making his way towards the large group of men to great them, but Jesse ran towards him before he had the chance.

“Rash, don’t we have that thing we were meant to get?” Jesse asked, rushing to grab him by the arm and leave the room, so that the lads would have no time to question Marcus about anything.

“What’s up, Jess?” Marcus asked as Jesse gently dragged him across the hall.

“Oh, I uh... forgot my uh... watch,” Jesse attempted to make up an excuse and Marcus stopped for a second.

“You idiot, you’re wearing your watch,” Marcus laughed gently as he pointed at Jesse’s gold watch.

“No, but my... I... need a charger,”

“I’m sure one of the boys’ll have a charger on them,” 

“But... uh...”

“Jess, are you feeling alright?” Marcus asked, looking at his friend as if he were worried he might faint.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse’s creative brain had failed him (once again) and he simply gave up. 

“Then come on, we need to get to the meetup room before Gareth, I’m pretty sure I was the last one to show up so we should be leaving any time soon,” Marcus said, walking back to the room closely followed by Jesse.

When Marcus was finally done greeting everybody, Jesse was about to explode in relief that nobody was mentioning their “relationship”.

But there was a part of Jesse that craved the attention, so as Marcus and himself sat down, he moved so close that their legs were practically overlapping, and he placed a hand upon the younger boy’s thigh. He moving his fingers up and down.

Marcus hardly even realised that Jesse was doing anything, and had a conversation with Trent. Even though he appeared blissfully unaware, some of the other lads looked at Jesse’s hand and smirked at him. It was hard for him to stifle his giggles but he managed.

Eventually, when everyone had arrived, Gareth gave them a warm welcome before telling them to get some rest before training.

And so the men parted, going their own ways, the excitement of the World Cup following them through every step.

—————————————

The training session was less training and more like Jesse being an idiot.

The boys were crowded around the exercise bikes, having just completely a solid two hours of both swimming and biking. Seeing this large group of people, these innocent brainless lads that would believe anything if he acted well enough, made Jesse all the more hysterical at the idea of drawing their attention his way.

His eyes drifted around the room until they landed on Marcus who was riding one of the exercise bikes, and he swayed towards him, a small smirk spreading on his face.

“You do realise that everyone else has already finished,” He began, scaring Marcus slightly, who lost some tension at the sight of his friend.

“Yeah, but I started later than you lot,” Marcus answer, Jesse placed a hand on his back.

“Bullshit! We literally came here at the same time!”

“Well then YOU were late as well, Mr Lingard,” Marcus smiled and Jesse scoffed.

“By 0.3 seconds??? Oh no, what ever will I do,”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re going to do but I’m going to carry on,” Marcus said and Jesse huffed, practically whining that Marcus should come and join him with the rest of the boys.

“I’ll come down in a second,” Marcus finally agreed but before he could even continue on for a moment longer, Jesse has tackled him into an aggressive tickle, making him role onto the floor and hit his head against the ground.

Despite the pain, Marcus simply giggled and tried to make Jesse stop, as the older man’s fingers lay gently on his stomach, attempting to tickle him into doing whatever Jesse was asking him to.

Jesse ignored Marcus’ smiling cries for help and moved himself closer to his friend, so that he could feel Marcus’s breath upon his face. He moved his hands up and began at the armpits, mercilessly continuing until Marcus almost had tears in his eyes of fits of laughter.

Jesse turned his head to see whether he had attracted enough attention to himself yet. Sure enough, almost all the other men had their eyes on the two, some of them smirking knowingly at him.

That was all he wanted, just to mess with his teammates’ minds. Knowing that he had their attention, he collapsed on top of Marcus, so that his chest was upon his friend’s chest. 

Eventually, Marcus managed to roll over and get himself up, he straightened himself out and then smiled at Jesse, though he was clearly trying not to.

“I hate you so much,” Marcus tried to sound convincing but Jesse only put a hand on his shoulder.

“You love me,” Jesse said, the words sounded weird to say out loud, but he knew that it would probably make the lads fall for it even more.

And sure enough they did. As the men finished off their drills and got ready for the journey to Moscow, some of them came up to Jesse and told him to keep Marcus safe. Kyle just teased him and Dele made a minimum of twelve sex jokes in the timespan of a four minute conversation.

As he collected his clothes and suitcases, later that night, he chuckled at the thought of people GENUINELY believing that him and Marcus were in an actual romantic relationship. The level of gullibility that they must have had made Jesse cry with laughter.

He loved wrapping people around his obnoxious little fingers.

————————————

The plane was waiting for them.

It was relatively warm outside, and then sun had barely set, it was June and all, so it wasn’t TOO much of a bother to have to wait outside for the remaining teammates to show up.

The men had been warned in advance to bring a thick coat to have with them for when they leave the airplane in Moscow, seeing as it would be freezing over there during the night, but most of them didn’t even bother and decide they might as well freeze when they get there.

There was a buzz in the air, a sensation of pride for England, pride for each other, pride for themselves. They were going to Moscow to play in the World Cup. And they were going to win.

Well, they weren’t CERTAIN that they were going to win, but from the way Jesse spoke about it, it was almost as if they had already secured their place in the final.

“I’m telling you, beans, we’re going to win,” Jesse repeated for the twelfth time as the final people (Raheem and Hendo) finally arrived and they were able to board the plane.

“Whatever you say, Jess,” Marcus gently smiled, he simply let Jesse rattle on about how he’d become an underwear model if the entire history of football was miraculously wiped out, or something like that.

The men began to sit down on the plane, and Jesse, being the attention-loving idiot that he was, gently grabbed hold of Marcus’ hand (just high enough so that the people seated in the isles they were walking past could see them) and sat down smack in the middle of the plane, so there were at least eight people able to see him.

“Alright, Marcus?” Kyle and John both sang from behind them as both Jesse and Marcus sat in front of them.

Marcus greeted them and they had a normal, human-like conversation, with the obvious flow of jokes and certain level of idiocy.

Jesse, however, felt he need to be the centre of attention (once again) and put an arm around Marcus, pulling his neck closer and then putting his left leg in between Marcus’ two.

“Guess what?” He whispered, dramatically and Marcus rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

“What?”

“I may have possibly accidentally maybe forgotten my iPad at home,”

“And?”

“I downloaded a movie on yours when were at the airport,”

“So?”

“We’re both watching it on yours,”

Marcus sighed softly and then turned to grab his iPad from beside him.

“Cheers for that, Jess, it wasn’t even a request, it was a ‘you WILL do this’”

“Shush with your fancy words and give me an earphone,” Jesse replied, arm firmly around Marcus’ shoulders.

“What word in that sentence was fancy? Request?”

“Yeah,”

“Jess, request is not fancy, mate,”

“It so IS,”

“Request is a basic word,”

“Is NOT,”

Marcus laughed softly at his idiot of a friend, he sometimes wondered how he put up with such an imbecile of a best friend. 

“Can you two stop bickering, people are trying to watch shit,” Jordan complained from beside them, and Marcus said sorry in between a chuckle.

Jesse eventually managed to open up his movie, which he knew was also Marcus’ favourite movie (You’re such a good friend, Jesse, he said to himself when he downloaded it) and watched as his friend’s face lit up at the sight of it.

Marcus has a bright, genuine smile on his face and his eyes almost glistened when he clicked play, as if he had never been more excited to watch something in his life. He moved closer to Jesse and then handed him one side of the earphones.

——————

Almost a full two hours past and somewhere during that time, Marcus had managed to fall asleep. For a while, Jesse didn’t even realise, he was too focused on an intense round of piano tiles, until he heard the soft snores a while later.

He looked around once at everyone else, who were all still as awake as ever, before he decided to play with them once again.

Jesse moved Marcus’ head gently, so that it looked as if Marcus had rested his head on the older man’s shoulder. As if it were second nature, Marcus’ unconscious self moved a hand onto Jesse’s chest, almost falling into his useless plans.

Then, as dramatically as ever, Jesse turned around to the group of people seated around them and, it can not emphasised how theatrically he did this, whipped his head around and moaned,

“Guys! Shut the fuck up! Marcus is trying to sleep!” 

Some of the men looked at Jesse and Marcus and awed, some of them nodded and quietened whilst others (mainly just Kyle) told Jesse that if anybody was going to wake Marcus up, it would be Jesse himself.

The second the volume rose a single notch louder, Jesse dramatically screamed again.

“You lot! Marcus. Is. Sleeping!”

“We know, you literally just told us-“

“Let him sleep!”

And the lads grumbled, some of them muttering about how ‘just because they were cute doesn’t mean they had to be so dramatic’, and Jesse smirked.

He looked down at Marcus’ head on his shoulder and stifled in another giggle. Imagine him in a relationship with his best friend, that wasn’t just him being an attention-lover. He simply couldn’t.

He turned back to the game of piano tiles, and casually listened to the gentle breathes of his sleeping friend.


	2. Moscow, Here We Come

The match against Sweden was most certainly one to remember. The atmosphere in the air was both peaceful and cheerful, and no matter what way you turned, you were faced with the biggest proudest smiles.

Everybody back at home had nothing but floods of love to give them, they were being plagued with positive comments and endless amounts of support. Even amongst the lads, it was all smiles, all joy and congratulations and gratitude.

It was so great to feel like you had a chance, after so many years of England being seen as underdogs, it was finally time they were making everyone back home proud, they were making friends proud, they were making family proud, they were making each other proud.

 

The boys had a full seven days before their match against Croatia, and so after training and drills, some of the lads decided that they might as well tour around the beautiful city of Moscow for a while.

“Rashy!” Jesse called out, surprising his friend in a rather out-of-nowhere hug from behind, wrapping his arms gently around Marcus’ waist.

“What do you want now?” Marcus asked, Jesse was extremely predictable and did the same exact whiny ‘Rashyyy!’ every single time he wanted something.

“The lads are going out to tour Moscow, you coming?” 

“Sure, I guess,” Marcus shrugged, he had just gotten out of the shower and gotten dressed minutes before Jesse had come in. Seeing as training had already gone by, he couldn’t find a reason why he shouldn’t go.

“‘Aight, they’re meeting us in the lobby, come on,”

Marcus was about to speak, but Jesse had already grabbed him by the arm and almost pushed him out of the room.

“Jes-“

“Come on, beans, we don’t have all day,” Jesse exclaimed, still dragging him down flights of stairs (he’d complained that the elevator was taking too long) and finally stopped when he bumped into the crowd of men in the lobby.

“But Jes-“ Marcus tried to speak again, only to be interrupted by his friend once again.

“Guys, Jesse and Marcus are here, we may leave,” Jesse yelled and everyone turned towards them. Jesse, who (not less than ever) still enjoyed people looking at him, moved closer to Marcus and gently placed a hand on the younger man’s chest.

“Marcus, where are your shoes?” Kyle questioned and Marcus sighed.

“I was TRYING to tell him,” Marcus groaned, turning to Jesse and pointing at his feet, “I need shoes. And money. And heck, a jacket,”

“Oh,” Jesse let out a chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck, “FALSE ALARM EVERYBODY, MARCUS NEEDS SHOES, WE WILL RETURN,”

Harry told them to hurry up, but everyone else seemed content with waiting a few more minutes.

“You know you don’t have to come with me, right?” Marcus asked, and Jesse shrugged.

“I know, but I’m going to anyway, you can’t stop me,” And he deliberately made eye contact with Dele, who smirked at him.

Sooner or later, after many failed attempts of finding socks that match and squabbling over what hyperthermia was (Jesse was so sure it meant ‘active’ that he would bet his life on it), the two boys finally went back down to the lobby. And the men were off.

———————————

In the past three weeks, Jesse had managed to keep his ‘relationship with Marcus’ completely between him and the rest of the team (besides Marcus himself) which he was very proud of. There were moments where someone would mention them being a couple directly to Marcus and Jesse would have to smoothly recover the situation in a way that meant Marcus had no idea what was going on but whoever asked was completely unsuspecting. Jesse wasn’t exactly the smartest person on earth but he was managing, and that was in itself inspiring.

Sometimes he wondered if Marcus was actually in on the entire thing, if he knew about it and just didn’t want to say anything. 

There were times when all the lads would be together and Jesse would grab hold of Marcus’ hand, and instead of batting his arm away or feeling uncomfortable, Marcus would give the younger man’s hand a squeeze and do nothing more. 

Or Jesse would rest his head on his lap to get people to look at him, and Marcus wouldn’t tell him to ‘get off’ or even move his legs an inch. In fact, sometimes Marcus would place a hand on Jesse’s textured hair, without making a big deal.

But Jesse still wondered, what would happen if Marcus didn’t know about it and found out soon. And he’d have to explain that he had just made it up in a competition with Dele over pretty much nothing, or that he just genuinely craved attention.

But that was an issue for another time. And as the men made their way onto the tour bus, Jesse didn’t have a single care in the world.

————————

 

“‘Right, where we heading to first?” John asked, looking at Harry (Kane, Winks had little to no idea what was going on) who looked at the leaflet and told them that they were going to ‘Moskvarium’.

The lads (there were about ten of them there) sat upon the top deck of the tour bus and tried to listen as the woman at the front pointed out the landmarks as they drove past.

Jesse sat at the front in between Marcus and Dele, being aware that everyone would be more likely to see him if he sat in front of them. Seeing as he had the attention span of an eight year old, he fidgeted with the zip on Marcus’ jacket.

Some of the men took pictures of the things they saw, others just listened attentively to the woman at the front, but they could all collectively hear a constant zipping sound.

“Jess, do you mind?” Marcus asked, turning his attention to the older lad who chuckled and then turned around to see some of the men distracted by him.

“Shit, sorry lads,” Jesse chuckled, and turned back around, putting his hand up as an apology to the tour guide.

 

There were less than a minute in between Jesse’s apology and his next disruption.

“‘M cold,” He dramatically sighed, and Marcus didn’t know what he was meant to do.

“I told you to bring a jacket, Jess,”

“But its not meant to be cold it’s SUMMER, it’s JULY,”

“But we’re in Russia, and I literally TOLD you the temperature when we were in the hotel, you were THERE when I got my jacket,” Marcus pointed out and Jesse just shrugged.

After a solid while of complaining about how cold it was, Jesse finally shut his mouth and instead wrapped both of his arms around Marcus’ waist, slipping his arm on the inside of his jacket, pressing his fingers across Marcus’ left hip.

With both his arms caressing Marcus’ body and his leg slowly crept on top of the younger man’s, pressed his head into Marcus’ shoulder blade, in attempt to seek warmth (and lets be honest, attention). 

“Better?” Marcus sighed, and Jesse nodded against the younger man’s chest, smiling at Trent, who was smirking his way.

“Better,”

———————

 

For an hour, the men were guided around the aquarium and were permised to feed the orcas, take pictures with some adorable dolphins and see the beautiful, angelic fish in the carefully designed tanks.

The lads had managed to stay together (with the exception of Dele and Eric who had gone off to god knows where to do god knows what) and Jesse has bought it upon himself to proclaim his love for Marcus at every chance he got.

He took more pictures of Marcus on that one afternoon than he had taken in his entire lifetime of all the other lads combined. The amount of time Jesse’s hand spent around Marcus’ waist must have been a health hazard of SOME sort, because it practically didn’t move an inch the entire time.

 

“Isn’t he fucking beautiful?” Jesse questioned, dramatically as him, Kyle and John stood together at the side of a tank. Marcus was on the other side of said tank, giggling as he threw a piece of the fish food at a nearby swimming fish.

He had a bright gleam to his face, teeth that shone and eyes that wrinkled in the corners as he watched. There wasn’t a single expression on his face other than pure innocence and joy. As much as Jesse may have been saying it jokingly, he wasn’t lying; Marcus was fucking beautiful.

“I mean, you, as his boyfriend, would think so, yeah,” John smiled.

“Oi, speaking of being his boyfriend,” Kyle suddenly spoke, “he’s only a kid, mate, don’t hurt him,”

“Of course I’m not going to, I’m not an absolute idiot,” Jesse replied.

“Debatable,” John and Kyle both chuckled, both knowing fore and well that Jesse’s brain capacity was that of a newborn.

“Bet he’d be good with future kids,” John said, pointing to Marcus, who was watching the fish with such tender love and joy that it would be a crime to interrupt him. He looked like he could spend hours just watching them, feeding them, being around them.

“You think so, huh?” Jesse asked, a gently smile plaguing his face as he watched Marcus.

“Maybe,”

—————————

 

“Where are we now?” Jordan (Pickford) asked, as the men stood in front of two large green hedges.

“Now, lads, THIS,” Harry (Kane) explained, pointing back at the gap between the mountainous hedges, “Is a maze. You know how mazes work, first one to get to the centre wins one grand,”

“To put that into perspective, that’s enough for 2 Gucci belts,” Dele said and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Yes, thanks for that, Del, now, get in there,”

And the lads were off.

If Jesse had ever let Marcus out of his sight, he most certainly wasn’t going to now, so imagine his surprise when he turns around and sees that both Marcus and Trent (who he had been walking with) had disappeared after around twenty minutes of trying to find their way through the maze.

“Trent? Beans??? GUYS?” He called, though nobody answered, and being the slightly idiotic lad that he was, Jesse decided instead to go back and look for them, retracing his steps all the way around the maze.

On his way, he bumped into Jordan (Henderson) and Winks, who told him not to worry (only because Jesse was being a dramatic bitch and whining over where Marcus had gone to such great extents that it looked real) and volunteered to take him to the centre, where Trent and Marcus probably already were.

After reaching the centre, the three men were greeted by the faces of the other lads, Raheem complained that they had taken too long, but they were nonetheless happy that they had got there.

“Where’s Rash?” Jesse purposely asked Dele, who shrugged, and said something about him probably still being in the maze.

And so they waited, Trent and Marcus were the only ones left anyway, until a full hour had past and the sun set, so the air was growing colder and the sky grew darker with each passing minute.

“Can’t we just leave? They’ve probably already left anyway,” John asked, the men began to walk toward the centre’s exit, until Jesse clung onto Eric’s arm as he walked by.

“Guys, please, can we wait for a bit longer?” He begged, pulling his oh-so-famous sad face on Jesse, who only saw desperation in his eyes.

Maybe the whole relationship thing was a joke, entirely fake, absolute bullshit, but then, at that moment, Jesse was filled with only the most genuine worry for his friend. Marcus was out there, probably lost, probably alone, and he couldn’t do a thing except wait. So when Eric looked into his eyes, he had nothing to see other than utter worry.

“Fine, ten more minutes,” Eric agreed, making John and the other lads turn around and continue to wait.

———————

Another fifteen minutes had past before two figured moved towards the lads, although it looked like only three legs. As they moved closer, the men were relieved to see the faces of Trent and Marcus.

Trent had an arm around Marcus, who was clearly in pain with a bleeding knee, as they beamed at all the other men.

“Sorry we took so long, I tripped onto a thorn and we got lo-“ Before Marcus could even say another word or finish his own sentence, he was attacked by Jesse who threw his arms at him, wrapping his legs around the taller boy’s body, in a well-needed hug.

The other men were on their way out, but Jesse refused to let go of Marcus, still stuck in the same position. He muttered something about how he was worried, but did nothing more and showed no signs that he was going to break off the hug.

“Uh, lads we’re...” Trent began, but Kyle tapped his shoulder, mouthing for him to ‘let them have their moment’, and they both simply left them alone.

 

“Jess, I think we need to get to the tour bus now,” Marcus finally whispered, letting go of Jesse’s tugging arms, only to see that everyone else had already gone.

“Oh,” Jesse chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck gently, “Oh,”

They walked side by side out of the maze’s exit, Marcus happily explained about what had happened after they managed to lose Jesse, though they had to walk extremely slowly in order as to not cause pain to Marcus’ knee cap.

They giggled about some dumb joke that Marcus had told that morning, and then, with nobody around them, Jesse reached out for Marcus’ hand, out of pure habit.

And Jesse couldn’t lie, it felt nice.

Because the air was so cold and Marcus’ hand was so warm as his thumb ran circles around Jesse’s palms. Because they moved in unison, one step at a time through an empty maze, where it was just Marcus and him.

And there was nobody he could have been showing off to.

But Jesse liked it.


	3. Cuddle Session

Heartbroken was an understatement. Such an understatement. When they sat on that pitch as the whistle blew, heartbroken didn’t begin to describe what they were feeling.

The score was 2-1. And yet, as Mario Mandzukic netted in the final goal, it felt like they’d just hammered England 5-0. The Croatian team applauded their fans and left in masses of joy.

And the England men were left there. Absolutely defeated. Entirely drained. Because they had given their all, because they had fought with every inch of hope in their bodies. But it wasn’t enough.

The pitch, which was once buzzing with anticipation and excitement, now had a feel on discomfort. There was silence. All was silent, except the movement of England fans as they began to leave the stadium.

After a while of just being there, defeated, the men got up and headed out, giving Gareth gentle hugs as they exited. Entering the tunnel, nobody mouthed a single word, with the exception of Dele, who was sobbing into Eric’s chest, as the older man held him tightly.

The atmosphere in the changing room was dry, as if someone had sucked all the livelyhood directly out of it. 

Jesse looked around, only to see an entire room filled with frowning faces and blood red eyes and suffering sighs. His eyes caught Marcus, who sat by himself in the corner, away from anybody else and kept an emotionless expression on his face. Jesse decided not to approach him, but his heart hurt a bit just looking at his friend.

Gareth came in to speak to them, giving them a heartfelt speech about how proud he was of them, how far they’d come, and how they’d brought such hope to the people back at England. 

Sooner or later, the men were done moping and left for the coach, feeling better than before but still rather dejected.

“Rash!” Jesse called, patting down the empty seat beside him as Marcus walked along then aisle beside him. Marcus however, shook his head softly and walked straight past him, sitting right at the back by himself.

Jesse felt as if someone has jabbed him in the chest. Not once, ever, in his life had Marcus chosen not to sit next to him when he had the chance. And it really shouldn’t have, but Jesse felt entitled to have Marcus next him at all times, through thick and thin. It’s not like he owned Marcus, Marcus wasn’t his.

But at that moment, then and there, when he was weak with sorrow at their loss, Jesse wished he was.

“Jess, y’alright?” Danny asked, as he noticed the empty seat beside the young man.

“Yeah, Yeah, ‘m good,” Jesse replied, clearing up his things so that Danny was able to sit beside him.

“Where’s Marcus, huh?” 

“Dunno,” Jesse shrugged and Danny gave him a sympathetic look.

The coach ride began in silence but as time moved on, the men began to lighten up, Kyle and John already making jokes about the Euros and keeping the mood lighthearted until they got to the hotel.

By the time the coach was parked outside the hotel, everyone was laughing and had gentle smiles placed on their faces.

“Have you seen my creps though? Nike is quaking,” Jordan stated and the men cackled.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, mate, the last time you go a trim, my dad was watching black and white TV with his granda-“ Jesse began, aimed at Jordan, who threw a shoe at him, still laughing.

“BE CAREFUL, JESS, JORDAN’S FRESH CREPS ARE COMING YOU WAY,” Kyle cried out as the shoe hit Jesse’s lap.

The men cackled over a story John was telling as they began to get up and head out of the coach. Jesse instinctively turned his head to look for Marcus, assuming that he had cheered up or felt better after the ride.

Marcus, however had his headphones still in, and miserably hummed to his music, staring out of the window as if there was not another person on Earth.

Eventually, he made eye contact with Jesse, who attempted to give him a welcoming smile. Marcus looked directly into his eyes, with a blank expression and uncomfortable look, until Jesse turned around out of guilt.

Jesse’s heart sank deeper in his chest, but he simply smiled at Danny as they headed out and back into the hotel.

But still, something felt wrong about not being with Marcus, something felt unnatural. And Jesse didn’t understand why.

—————————

Jesse was lying awake that night, still and alone in the hotel room. His eyes were wide open, but he simply stared at the darkness of the curling land kept silent.

Being fair, Jesse had taken the loss better than the majority of the other lads. He was devastated but he simply moved on and looked at it as another loss, like in the premier league. He told himself that it was just another little loss, and that all was fine.

There was a knock at his door.

Immediately, Jesse got up and made his way to answer it, opening it slightly, only to see Marcus standing there, trembling from head to toe.

His eyes were blotchy and red, and he stood wearing nothing other than a pair of short black shorts and a white vest. He didn’t say a word either, he simply stood there, and looked a right sight.

“Oh my god, beans, what happened?” Jesse tried to ask, Marcus shrugged, and moved away as Jesse’s hand reached out to touch him.

“Do you want to...come in?” Jesse asked and Marcus looked directly into his eyes (which Jesse could hardly handle seeing as the sight of his friend’s eyes as red as blood made him sick in the stomach) and ever so faintly nodded his head.

Marcus didn’t open his mouth once as he entered, and swiftly avoided Jesse’s attempts to give him any physical contact. 

“Are you okay?” Jesse attempted to make conversation, but Marcus didn’t answer, he looked at the bed and trembled. He didn’t open his mouth. Suddenly, he collapsed over the bed, and Jesse’s heart jumped.

Uncertain of what to do, Jesse looked over at Marcus’ body that lay powerless on his bed, shaking and completely out of himself. And he could hardly stop the painful frown that grew on his face, his mind racing with thoughts of worry. Every time he reached out to take hold of Marcus, the younger man would flinch away as if he were in pain.

“You need to get to bed, Rash,” Jesse finally said, lifting up the bed covers and gently placing it over Marcus’ weakened body. Marcus put his head on the pillow and let out a single sigh. He waited a minute or two, as he calmed down, until his breathes eventually evened out and his hands weren’t trembling. And then he lifted up the other side of the cover.

“Do you, want me to...?” Jesse trailed off looking at Marcus’ face, who swallowed and then gently nodded his head. As slowly and gently as he could, Jesse made his way into the bed, so that he was facing Marcus .

“Do you wanna... talk about it?” Jesse asked.

He wasn’t used to seeing Marcus like this, normally it was him going to Marcus with petty little problems he thought would end the world. But Marcus all teared up and shaking? This was a first timer.

In answer to Jesse’s question, Marcus shook his head and sighed again, his breath brushed against Jesse’s skin. They didn’t speak for a while after that, the only sounds were the gently snuffles of Marcus’ nose, or the odd movement of Jesse’s leg.

It was difficult to get into a comfortable position, seeing as every time Jesse’s skin accidentally brushed against Marcus’, the younger boy would wince as if it were burning him. Until Jesse, as slowly as possible placed an arm on his waist, and wrapped his leg, so that his foot gently rubbed the sole of the younger man’s skin, between Marcus’ two legs.

Silence, until...

“I don’t want to go home,” Marcus suddenly said, eyes still closed as Jesse watched over him.

“We’re not going home just yet, we still have our third place to claim,” Jesse replied, and Marcus stirred.

“They wanted first place, and we were so close, so so...” Marcus trailed off, “close”

“Rash, we’ll only get closer next time, and the time after that, and the time after th-“

“You don’t know that. We don’t know a thing. We thought we had this one in the bag. We thought we’d finally done it, made it, made it POSSIBLE. The whole nation was waiting for us, Jess, they’re waiting,” Marcus shuddered as he spoke, although instead of moving away, he moved gently, closer to Jesse’s face.

“Marcus-“

“You guys deserved to win, imagine how great that would have been, we’d go to that final and we’d elegantly win and bring home the World Cup, and they’d be so proud, so happy, and we’d end on a good note. Our families would be over the moon, Jess, they’d be so... so proud,” Marcus face dropped at the thought, his head falling upon Jesse’s collarbone.

“So proud,” He repeated in a painful whisper. Jesse rubbed his back gently and let him let out a single whimper of emotion. Marcus really wanted that win.

“I tried my best, Jes, maybe it didn’t look like it but I really did. I needed to win that match, more than I’ve needed anything in my life. I just wanted to make you guys happy, I just wanted to make the people back home happy,”

Jesse felt agony for his friend, he wrapped his arm tighter around Marcus, and then pressed his chest against the younger man’s, so that they were entirely entangled in each other, and his chin rested on the tips of Marcus’ hair.

“Marcus, they’re already happy. Look, England haven’t been the best team to support in any world cups for a while, and we’ve changed that. We really have changed the odds, changed everyone thoughts on us. Did you EVER think we had a chance of getting to where we got in 2014?” Jesse tried to comfort his friend.

“I know, Jess, I know,” Marcus muttered, head still pressed at the crane of Jesse’s neck.

“Look at me, Rash,” Jesse said, taking a gentle grasp of Marcus’ chin and moving it upwards to face his direction, “WE made England fall back in love with football, you and me,”

Marcus let out a single soft chuckle, and muttered an inarticulate sentence, something about how it ‘weren’t just you and me’.

“I know but we were part of it, and I’d say it wasn’t too bad for a first World Cup, huh, not bad at all,” Jesse commented, and Marcus nodded, resting a hand on Jesse’s lower stomach and his head back on Jesse’s chest.

“Could’ve been better, though, we could have WON,” Marcus pointed out, though he didn’t seem to be taking it to heart as much, making the comment seem rather lighthearted.

“Yeah, but you watch, 2022 is all ours, I’m already planning what poses we can do on the podium when we win,” Jesse assured and Marcus snickered softly.

“Shut up,” He playfully slapped Jesse’s stomach. And there was a moment of comfortably silence as Jesse’s fingers played with Marcus’ hair.

“It’s coming home, it’s coming home, it’s coming, football’s coming home,” Jesse began to sing, awfully so, and rather out o nowhere. Marcus sat up for a second, looked at Jesse in the darkness, and appeared rather disturbed.

“Do you mind?” He smirked as he said it, and Jesse only began to sing louder and in an even more obnoxious voice, until Raheem banged against the wall and told him to shut up.

“See, I’m not the only one that isn’t the biggest fan of your singing,” Marcus told him and Jesse scoffed as if it were unbelievable.

“Oh shush, you know you love my musical talent, Rash,” Jesse smiled, to the amusement of his friend, who moved back to his original position with his head on Jesse’s chest and hand on his abdomen.

And a silence fell upon them again.

“Jess,”

“Yeah,”

“Thanks,”

“Don’t say thanks, you do this for me all the time,”

“Still,” He replied, while yawning.

And peacefully, Jesse hummed a simple tune, Marcus’ rhythmic breaths brushing against his chest. The younger man drew circles on Jesse’s stomach with his finger, soothing Jesse to sleep.

And there was not a single other person around them, yet Jesse liked it. Heck, he could go as far as to say he loved it, he didn’t want to move an inch.

And so he didn’t.


	4. Exposed And In Denial

“Rise and shine, motherfucker,” 

Jesse didn’t have to barge in and open up the curtains like a mother to her thirteen year old son, but he did it anyway.

“What do you want?” Marcus muttered, opening his eyes slowly and sitting up in his bed, “and how did you get in her-“

“THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT, what IS important however is that I, Jesse Ellis Lingard, am hungry,”

Marcus rolled his eyes, but smiled as he sat up. Jesse jumped onto the bed, falling upon Marcus’ legs and looking up at him.

“And? Why did you need to wake ME up?” Marcus asked, gently brushing a finger across Jesse’s hair, as the older man smiled up at him gently.

“Come with me to get breakfast,”

“Why can’t you go by yourself?”

“Because the people serving the breakfast HATE me, but they love you,”

And Jesse had a point, but how could you blame the poor people that were forced to deal with his large and dramatic personality so early EVERY morning. And there was also that one time him, Kyle, John and Dele had a childish food fight and ruined plates of foot.

“That’s not true! They don’t love me,” Marcus giggled as Jesse glared at him and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, shut up, you know that’s bullshit! They all love you, they’re all like ‘oh Marcus, sunshine, can I get this for you?’ and ‘oh, my boy, let me embrace you,’ and ‘oh, Marcus, I’m gonna suck your dick,’” Jesse replied, smirking.

“From what I can remember, that last one didn’t happen,” Marcus chuckled, still gently massaging the top of Jesse’s head.

“Well it might as well have, if they love you so much,” 

“They don’t love me THAT much,”

“Everyone loves you, I’ve never met a single person who doesn’t, it’s unfair, what’s your secret? Do you pay them?”

“No, I just... be nice,” Marcus smiled and Jesse gasped.

“LIES! That doesn’t work! People just love you for breathing and shit,”

“All the better to flex on you with, Jes,”

“Ugh, I hate you,” Jesse sat up, and pushed Marcus away gently, but pulled him back seconds later.

“You love me, and what were you saying before about breakfast?” Marcus said, and the phrase stuck in Jesse’s mind, replaying, over and over.

‘You love me’, ‘you love me’, ‘you love me,’ and it rang in his head as they walked down to the breakfast area.

—————————

This was their second to last day at the hotel before they were off and going on vacation, and although they were gutted to be leaving so early, but it was still a rather joyous and happy last few days.

It had been a great time, so much hope and enjoyment, and Jesse had managed to keep himself entertained with his trickery about his ‘relationship’.

He had managed to reach the end of the tournament without making Marcus hate him or looking like TOO much of an idiot. He would just play his little games and be on his way, except sometimes, just sometimes, he would fall for his OWN games.

Sometimes, he’d pretend he was cuddling Marcus because it was funny to see the other lads react, but he knew deep down he just wanted an excuse to cuddle Marcus. Sometimes, he wore Marcus’ oversized jumpers, and he knew that the only reason he wore them was because they smelt of Marcus. And sometimes he felt like he had a part of Marcus with him when he wore his clothes. And sometimes he liked that.

But even that was beyond his knowledge.

“If you give me some of your pancake, I’ll let you have some of my greek yoghurt,” Jesse offered a trade, as they sat at a table with around six of the other men.

“You can get your own pancake, Jes,” Marcus sighed, but he already knew that Jesse wasn’t going to take that.

Marcus rolled his eyes and then moved his plate closer to his friend, who giggled and then cut up a part of it, although he knew that his ‘part’ was practically the entire thing.

“You said SOME of my pancake!”

“And that’s exactly what I’m taking,”

“You took the whole thing, that’s literally the entire thing!”

Jesse shrugged, cackling as he stuffed the pancake in his mouth, to the slight frustration of Marcus.

“Now you have to give me some of your Greek yoghurt,” Marcus crossed his arms and reached out to point at it.

“Fine,” Jesse picked up the spoon and got a fairly small amount, “open wide,”

As if he were feeding a toddler, Jesse guided the spoon into Marcus’ mouth, who smiled, and all the more accepted the offer.

“Is it good?” Jesse asked, and his friend nodded, still swallowing the yoghurt.

“Seeing as you took my ENTIRE pancake, I get an extra spoon of the yoghurt,” Marcus debated and Jesse scoffed.

“Uhm, no thanks,” Jesse said, moving the spoon away, only for Marcus to giggle and reach out to get it himself. Sooner or later, it was more like a tug of war between two eight year old kids, and the spoon flung into the air and flicked into Ruben’s eggs.

Ruben slowly looked up, already being met by Marcus’ frantic sorrys and Jesse cackling so hard he was hardly breathing.

“Do you guys ever stop?” Ruben asked, though it seemed rather lighthearted. He smiled gently at them, but Marcus still felt bad.

“Sorry, mate-“ He was about to apologise again before Jesse began speaking after recovering from his fit of laughter.

“Relax it was a SPOON, I didn’t yeet my entire breakfast at you,” Jesse laughed, and Ruben told him to shut up.

“A spoon that was IN your Greek yoghurt, Jess,” Ruben pointed out.

“Very Good Greek yoghurt, I’ll have you know,”

“That’s true, it was really good, like very tasty,” Marcus added, still grinning at Ruben.

“That’s what she said,” Ruben burst out saying, “or should I say, that’s what Marcus said when-“

“When he had some of my Greek yoghurt, that’s very true, Loftus, anyway speaking of that yoghurt, let’s go and get you some, Rash,” Jesse rushed, knowing fore and well what Ruben was going to say. He grabbed onto Marcus’ arm and pulled him up and away.

———————

That was the eighth time that Jesse had managed to recover a situation that could have ended with Marcus hating him. And it was probably the least smooth. 

They stood near the table of beverages, Marcus pouring himself some juice while Jesse overthought what had just happened. He didn’t even realise that there was anyone else on the table except him and Marcus, which slightly nerved him. He wanted to think he was doing it for attention, but he wasn’t so sure.

“Do you want some orange juice?” Marcus faintly asked, but Jesse’s mind was suddenly whirling with thoughts.

Perhaps he’d been too defensive at Ruben, and the people on the table might have suspected something, maybe they thought something was fishy, seeing as he made quite a stiffy exit.

“Jess?”

How was he going to explain to people that he was just joking after all of THAT? Maybe if he just made it look realistic for one more day people would forget by next international brea-

“JESS!” Marcus shook his friend’s shoulder, until he was entirely out of his state and then smiled at him.

Jesse turned around to see where everybody else was and then waited a second or two until some of the lads looked in his direction, before he pounced onto Marcus in a hug.

As he let go, he looked around again and paused to wait until other people turned their heads before wrapping his arm gently around Marcus’ shoulder, and pulling him very much closer.

“Jesus Christ, I know you like orange juice but you don’t have to get too passionate,” Marcus chuckled and Jesse grinned.

“Shut up, you idiot,” He grabbed Marcus’ chin and then planted a kiss on his cheek.

He let go of his hold on Marcus and then met eyes with Trent who simply winked as if he knew the deal. But that didn’t do anything for Jesse, he didn’t feel a sense of pride that he got attention, he didn’t feel like laughing because they were still falling for it, he just felt warm. He wasn’t doing this for attention.

He was doing this because he wanted to.

 

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, mate,” Marcus said, and Jesse took a gulp before he gave a fake smile.

Now he was genuinely scared of what he might do next, maybe he’d full on make out with him to get their heads turning, possibly whip Marcus’ shirt off so people would look. He was worried that he would unintentionally take things entirely out of hand.

“I have a head ache,” Jesse lied, “I’m going to my room,”

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked, appearing genuinely worried.

“Yeah, I just need to close my eyes for a bit, my head is hurting,”

“Should I come with you, just to make sure you get th-“

“No, no its fine, I’ll manage,” Jesse assured, “you can come up in a bit if you want,”

“Alright then, Jess,”

And Jesse was already up, out, and into the elevator.

—————————

Marcus took his orange juice in hand and then decided to go to see some of the other men, who appeared to be in some form of a brawl.

“The height difference!” John called out, banging a hand on the table, entirely devoted to whatever the argument was.

“Have you not seen his smile?” Dele protested, “Marcus, can you smile for us?”

Marcus was slightly confused, but smiled nonetheless, as he sat down.

“You’re telling me that someone who smiles THAT INNOCENTLY can top? You’re wild,” Dele continued.

“How about we ask the expert, then,” John demanded and Dele scoffed.

“As someone who can proudly present a PHD in being gay, I’M an expert,” Dele said.

“Well unless you’re a psychic, I don’t think you’re an expert on OTHER people’s relationship,” John pointed out, and so Dele sighed and then turned to the vulnerable Marcus.

“Marcus, mate, please prove John wrong and tell us that you don’t top Jesse,” Dele begged, Marcus looked entirely perplexed.

“Don’t listen to him, Rash, you’re a top, innit?” John asked immediately after, still the confusement of Marcus.

“IF BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GIVE HIM A SECOND TO TALK, MAYBE HE COULD ANSWER,” Kieran silenced them, and they all respectively turned their heads to face Marcus, who furrowed his brow.

“I’m...confused,” He inaudibly whispered.

“Okay, so we were just wondering, who tops, you or Jesse?” Dele asked, slightly calmer.

“I’m sorry, what?” Marcus could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. What were they on about?

“When you and Jess, like, get at each other, who dominates?” Dele attempted to clarify as if the issue was that Marcus didn’t understand what top meant.

“No, I mean... what?” Marcus wore a puzzled face, and looked over at Eric, who had an arm rested around Dele’s waist, for help.

“Guys, leave him alone, you’re making him uncomfortable,” Eric said, and the subject was dropped, Marcus offering a weak smile to his friend who’d just saved him.

But Marcus was still rather confused, what did they mean? And why would they ask him? And what did Jesse have to do with anything?

“Marcus, you alright?” Harry asked, and the younger man got up, and whispered about going to get more orange juice.

———————

Marcus poured himself another glass of juice, attempting to forget whatever had just happened before someone patted his back.

“Sorry about that, pal, didn’t realise I made you so uneasy,” Dele apologised and Marcus smiled gently.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” 

“You can keep your relationship as private as you want, even though a certain Jesse won’t shut up about it,”

“My...what?”

“Oh believe me, mate, if I had a shot for every time Jesse gave me lectures about you, I’d have been dead by last week,”

“He did...what?”

“You haven’t seen? You’re clearly one of the luckier ones, then. Can’t even mention you without Jess fucking dramatically proclaiming his undying love for you,”

“His...he...”

“But if YOU don’t wanna talk about it, that’s perfectly fine, mate,” Dele finished, and patted Marcus’ shoulder before going off.

“Talk about what?” Marcus whispered to himself as he left to go and ask Jesse what the fuck was going on.

—————————-

Jesse wasn’t particularly doing anything when there was a knock on the door. He’d been walking around in circles and attempting to touch the ceiling, so he was rather distracted and hardly realised until a third or fourth knock.

“Oh, hey Beans,” He smiles as he let his friend into the room.

“I was talking to Dele,” Marcus began as Jesse welcomed him to the bed.

“Yeah, I know, he’s a bit fucking retard, what else is new?” Jesse replied.

“He...he said something about you...and me,”

“What about us?” Jesse asked still strolling around the room.

“Something about...a relationship? Or something, I’m not sure, but he told me that you gave him, like, lectures about... me?” Marcus seemed more and more confused with each word.

Jesse looked over at Marcus as realisation hit him. Fuck he’d been caught. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Ah, yes, so BASICALLY...” And Marcus could already tell it was going to be a useless fuddle of excuses.

“Go on,”

“Well, I was bored, so I thought I’d like... trick the lads into thinking we were together, and not gonna lie, it was right funny, they all believed me, so I just kept it going, figured I’d get a laugh out of it. And I did,”

“How come I didn’t notice?”

“Did you not see how touchy and possessive I’d pretend to be?”

“No, I saw I just...”

“I wasn’t doing it for the sake of it, mate, I don’t actually WANT to be fucking cuddling you and shit, it was just a joke. If I’d actually WANTED to like... do that shit, then that would be a fucking problem. Did you think I’d actually do all the shit I did because I wanted to?” Jesse had little to no idea what he was on about, and he knew that most of the things he was saying were everything but the truth.

“Oh. I just thought that...”

“That what? That I’d sweep you off your feet and carry you off into the sunset so that we could get married in the beautiful scenery of Paris? That I’d gently kiss you goodnight before I magically transform into fucking Prince Charming?” Jesse sounded much more defensive than he meant to sound, and still he knew he was going on about nothing.

He was meant to assure Marcus that he didn’t see him as anything more than a friend (whether that was even true was invalid) and that the entire thing was a joke. But then, in his flustered state, he just seemed angry at Marcus for something that wasn’t even his fault.

“Is that what you thought?” He asked, but Marcus didn’t answer. He stared down at the floor, concentrating on his shoes while Jesse continued in what felt like an endless paining rant.

“It was just for these couple of days, honestly if I did it any longer, I’d fucking puke, mate,” Jesse said, entirely lying, “Sorry, Rash, if it looked like I was being fucking weird, we’ll just go back to normal now though, innit?”

Marcus didn’t answer. He was still glaring down at his feet, fingers pressed against his palms, and Jesse could tell he was trying not to start biting his nails.

“Innit?” Jesse repeated, reaching out to pat Marcus’ shoulder, only for the younger man to move away, but remain staring at his feet. It took a few minutes of silence before he looked at Jesse and began to speak, in a very faint, slightly broken voice.

“I thought... we were getting somewhere, thought you’d finally figured it out,” 

Jesse didn’t understand what that meant, but he couldn’t deny that his heart collapsed in his chest at the sound of Marcus’ pained voice. Still, he realised that Marcus hadn’t actually answered the question he’d asked. He was about to ask him again.

But as Marcus silently stood up and made an exit towards the door, he hardly had the time. And when Marcus looked back at him with a helpless and shattered look (that would probably make even the most heartless of people break down in tears) it was pretty clear he had answered the question.

And the answer was no.


	5. I Came To A Realisation

A day had passed and things hadn’t gotten any better. After Marcus left the room, he hadn’t even looked in Jesse’s direction for the rest of the day.

Jesse didn’t understand why they couldn’t still be friends, and yet he was too nerved to attempt to fix it. Too worried that he’d make shit worse, say something he wasn’t meant to say, do something he wasn’t meant to do. So he didn’t do a thing.

The only interaction they’d had was when they’d been walking to their rooms to head off to bed, and Jesse had managed to bump into Marcus, causing the younger male to fall to the ground. Jesse, feeling the need to not be a bitch, reached a hand out to help him up, but tried his best not to make eye contact.

Marcus, however, stared directly into Jesse’s eyes, hardly blinking, with a heartbroken expression as if someone had killed his dog. In the couple of seconds where they did make contact, Jesse shuddered, God was it horrible.

Marcus got back on his feet, giving Jesse a final innocent sigh, and walked directly past him, not bothering to say anything. And as Jesse turned around and watched HIS best friend like this, so distant and destroyed, his brain throbbed. 

In silence, Jesse went back to his room, and it shouldn’t have bothered him this much, it was hardly a threat, and Marcus hadn’t hurt him physically in any way, all he’d done was get up and leave. But it still hurt Jesse more than a punch would have done.

And Jesse had absolutely no idea why, but with every step he took to his room, he felt more and more sick. And lord, was his mind going entirely off the rail.

He was confused, to such an extent that his brain couldn’t handle what was going on. His chest felt heavy, as if there were a rock placed between his lungs. But he ignored it and entered his room.

As he lay in his bed, attempting to get some sleep, his mind rushing with worry and confusion, it hit him once very hard and then the thought left as soon as it came.

He needed Marcus. Fuck, he really did need Marcus. More than he’d ever realised, he loved Marcus.

He remembered that warm feeling that would invade him every time he saw Marcus’ innocent smile or when he held him closer or when Marcus voluntarily spent time with him.

And with Marcus’ laughing face imprinted in his mind, he finally settled and fell asleep.

————————————

On their last day there, when all was supposed to be joyous and peaceful, Jesse woke up, and felt like he was going to explode at any second. He either felt really sick or entirely done with everything. Or both.

He’d never really been in a bad mood upon waking up, he always pissed everyone else off with how overly enthusiastic he was so early in the morning, but it also meant he brought the bright spirit to the men at the beginning of the day. Not today, though.

He walked down the stairs with Trent, being awfully silent while the younger man attempted to brighten the mood by singing a Drake song he hardly knew the words to, but Jesse just kept staring at the floor.

And then, as he made his way through the hotel’s lunch area to get to the table filled with England teammates, he realised that he really couldn’t handle seeing Marcus. Even the thought of seeing the younger man nerved him.

The idea of having to come eye to eye with Marcus, after that horrible gut feeling he got last time, almost pained him, and he prayed and prayed that Marcus had already eaten and gone out somewhere, ANYWHERE. He pleaded silently that he’d never have to feel the way he felt ever again.

It was fine for a while, Jesse began to calm down surrounded by cheery lads, until he finally met the moment he’d be dreading, and Marcus, alone and rather bugged, came in and sat in between Eric and Harry, far on the other end of the table from Trent and Jesse.

There was a knot in Jesse’s stomach that only grew tighter every time he tried to look away, but he felt too uncomfortable looking at Marcus, and the younger man wasn’t even looking back. 

“Jess, are you feeling alright toda-“ Trent began to ask, before Jesse got up and pressed a hand on his shoulder.

“I need to call someone, I’ll be right back,” Jesse said, his stomach still whirling as Marcus spoke to Eric about god knows what.

The part about ‘being right back’ was highly unlikely, because Jesse knew that he never wanted to get that sense he felt ever again. He wasn’t even sure what it was making him, whether it was sad or angry or guilty or needy or anything else.

He left the hall, eyes darting at Marcus when he reached the exit, who wasn’t even looking roughly in his direction. Oh fuck fuck fuck.

————————-

Marcus only properly checked back on Jesse when he’d already left. And it really REALLY shouldn’t have but a rush of sympathy devoured him.

No, he deserves this, he thought to himself, but that didn’t seem to help anything.

“You wanna go and check up on him?” Eric asked.

Marcus’ brain subconsciously yelled at him to say yes, a chorus of PLEASEs and YESes roared mentally and Marcus had to resist the urge to nod.

“Uh... I reckon he’ll be fine,” He finally shrugged, but he still felt the need to check up on Jesse. He was a massive dick, but he was still his best friend.

He found himself leaving to go and find Jesse only a few minutes later.

After searching for a while, Marcus turned the corner of one of the corridors, to be met by a long corridor ending with a dead end and Jesse nervously clicking something on his phone and then placing it beside his ear, right at the back.

Unsure of whether or not he should interrupt, Marcus decided he’d just wait until Jesse had finished with his call before approaching him, but he wasn’t even sure what he’d do when he had to talk to him.

“Paul? Are you busy?” Jesse began, and there was a mumbling on the other side of the phone.

“I feel sick ‘n I’ve realised that I’m fucking stupid, I’m so dumb, oh my god, you guys really underestimated my ability to fuck shit up, oh Lord,”

There was a muffled response from Paul as Marcus listened in.

“I made a joke about me and Rash being together and took it way too far, and now he won’t even look at me, won’t waste his energy on talking to me,”

Paul said something and Jesse sighed.

“If I could go back, I definitely wouldn’t have ever done it in the first place, I’m so retarded, oh god, did I chat the largest amount of bullshit,”

Paul replied.

“Nothing I told him was true, absolutely none of it, I just made shit worse, I made everything worse. I said I did it solely for the joke, for attention, whatever my dumbass excuse was, but I... just like being close to him, like knowing that... he’s right there, you know,” Jesse continued.

There was silence on both ends, before Paul finally said something back. Jesse huffed once before replying.

“I don’t know, I don’t know anything, I don’t have a single clue, but I feel so bad, so fucking bad, I just... want him... to be... okay,”

Marcus listened even more intently as Paul responded and Jesse began talking again.

“I was thinking about that yesterday, every time I see Marcus laughing or proud of himself, or having a good time, I... there’s... I don’t know how to phrase it but I’m fucking happy, dude. Like honestly, I can physically feel my chest beat faster,”

Paul chuckled once and then said something else.

“It’s not like that! I mean, not that I don’t love Marcus, but...” Jesse stopped.

Paul began to speak, saying something that sounded roughly like ‘but what?’. Jesse gasped gently before speaking again, in a rather monotone voice.

“There is no ‘but’, I... just love Marcus. That’s... all there is to it. Fuck, fuck, oh my fuck I hate everything,”

Jesse fidgeted stressfully with his hair, whilst he paid attention to what Paul had to say.

“I’m such a fucking idiot, I’m such a fucking idiot, I’m so fucking dumb, I’m so fucking brain dead, oh God, I owe Rash an apology for even being near him,”

Marcus frowned to himself, Jesse continued.

“I don’t know if I knew I liked him this whole time or if I just grew to love him when I started the whole ‘pretending to love him’ thing but either way, I do fucking love him and that’s so goddamn scary, Paul,”

There was a longer reply from Paul, and Jesse sighed and then spoke.

“That’s the problem. I always mess up and end up sounding like I want the opposite of what I really want. I don’t know how to, like, say what I want,”

There was a reply that sounded something along the lines of ‘what DO you want?’ from Paul. Jesse swallowed and then anxiously replied.

“I don’t know, just wanna like, see that smile of his, see him happy, make him laugh, hold his hand, like, have him right next to me, right by my side, so I know he’s there and I’m doing something right. Just want him to stay,”

Marcus could hear a muffled “so then what do you REALLY want?” from the other side of phone and Jesse stayed silent for a second before he whispered an answer.

“Marcus. I just fucking want Marcus.”

Paul replied, and after a minute or two of listening attentively, Jesse began to say goodbye.

“Alright, I’ll be... going then, thanks Paul, for listening to me be a dramatic bitch, love you bro,” Jesse hung up and turned around, but Marcus was already gone.

————————

The flight back home was in about three hours and practically nobody was ready. There were men rambling to get to their luggage and folding clothes and running in and out of their rooms, it was a shambles in its entirety.

Marcus had finished packing up within five minutes, seeing as he’d kept his things relatively orderly throughout the weeks they were there.

His first instinct was to go and see Jesse, assuming that he’d need help with packing. And maybe they’d be able to talking things through, maybe fix the problem and move on. And heck, maybe Marcus’d get what he’d wanted for so long.

He knocked on the door, something he’d done countless times since they’d been here but for some reason, this time had him rather nervous and slightly scared.

Jesse opened it, his eyes widened when he saw Marcus’ face and he immediately attempted to shut the door.

“Jesse, wait!” Marcus called, sticking his foot through the gap so the door could not entirely shut. Jesse calmed down and, with a final breath, he let Marcus enter the room.

Normally, the two would ease in to conversation, usually laughing about something dumb or teasing each other. They’d always try to sit on the comfy chairs and play a video game or two (preferably FIFA, seeing as Jesse won the majority of the matches and Marcus liked seeing him happy, so it was a win for both sides of the party), but almost always ended up sprawled on the bed together.

But now it felt so... unnatural. The air was almost unwelcoming to Marcus’ skin. He gulped once, unsure of whether he should sit down somewhere or not, so he just stood there.

Not since the first day they’d ever met had there been a minute of awkward silence between them, yet here they were, Jesse not even facing Marcus’ direction in a degree of fear.

“Look, I-“ Jesse began but Marcus interrupted him.

“I heard you talking to Paul,”

Jesse turned around and Marcus could visibly witness the rush of blood flow to the older man’s head and his eyes blinking at incredible speeds.

“No you didn’t,” 

His reply was too quick and practically inaudible, it was hard to say he believed what he said.

“I did,” Marcus simply stated.

“You didn’t,”

“Jess, you can’t TELL me I didn’t hear something,”

Jesse stopped and took a breather, his mind looping with every swear word he could wrap hold of.

“I can... explain myself,” Jesse placed his hands up as to surrender and Marcus just looked at him, arms folded.

“Go on then,” 

Jesse loves talking, he could do it for hours about nothing, he could make jokes out of thin air, ask questions to break the silence, or just rattle on about practically anything you want him to, or don’t. It was rare you’d find Jesse NOT chatting absolute shit, very rare you’d find him silent.

But in that moment, Jesse couldn’t remember a single word he’d ever been taught, he could hardly grasp the English language. He attempted to open his mouth and speak, but nothing came out, except a single whimper.

“Jess, go on, then,” Marcus repeated, and the older man huffed.

“I...” Jesse couldn’t. He fell short of words and his face must have been of some sort of concern, because Marcus furrowed his brow and gently wrapped his arms around Jesse.

And Jesse didn’t want to talk, because he wanted to stay in Marcus’ arms, he was scared that if he said something wrong, the younger male would let go and he’d rather anything else happened than that.

So they just stayed like that, until Marcus loosened his grip and sat down on the bed, closely followed by Jesse, who had managed to calm down slightly.

And then he spoke, he spoke and he spoke and he spoke about everything he’d ever wanted to say, and Marcus listened. By the end of his venting, they were both lying on the bed, legs knitted together, Jesse stared at the ceiling and the younger male just watched him.

There was a warm silence, one that felt calm and pure, as if everything were on good terms.

“Jess,” Marcus sat up, legs still entirely in contact with the other man’s.

“Yeah,” Jesse still looked up as he answered.

“Can I try something?”

“Sure,”

Jesse wasn’t sure what ‘something’ was until he saw Marcus’ eyes lock with his and his face move closer and closer, until their noses were touching. And then, ever so gently, Marcus pressed his lips on Jesse’s.

Marcus moved a hand and used it to cup at Jesse’s face, as the older pressed his hands against Marcus’ back, pushing him closer and falling deeper into the kiss. Marcus’ lips were soft and warm, and so extremely perfect to kiss that Jesse cursed himself for not doing it earlier.

Jesse pushed back at the younger boy’s lips, and a gentle yet unforgiving war broke out over who could push the hardest. Aside from the rare pauses to gasp for breath, it didn’t seem like either of them were ever going to stop.

After god knows how long, Marcus rolled over and lay next to his companion, breathing heavily. Fuck was that good, and all he’d ever really wanted.

Giving themselves time to recover, they both rested there, each of them looking to see how the other was doing every so often, and small smiles spread on their faces.

“Marcus?”

“Yeah,” The younger boy turned his body to face Jesse, waiting for what he would say.

“‘You gonna help me pack or what?”

Marcus laughed and then got up, with a quick ‘come on then’, and began walking towards the older man’s cupboard.

A few minutes later and the two were giggling about Dele’s dumb hand challenge and folding clothes (or Marcus was folding clothes while Jesse did absolutely nothing). And Jesse had never felt so good, so free, so fucking warm inside.

It was so good to be back to normal, back to feeling like there were two of them and nobody else in the world could change that, nobody else in the world was important.

“Is this mine?” Marcus asked, holding up a T-shirt that looked far too big to belong to Jesse.

“No-“

“And this too. And THAT. Jess, all of these are mine,” Marcus scavenged through the wardrobe and found four of his sweaters, two T-Shirts and a cap that all belonged to him.

Jesse chuckled at Marcus’ shocked face as he rediscovered so much of his lost clothes.

“Where did you even get these from?” Marcus queried.

“Don’t remember, if I’m being honest,” Jesse shrugged, and watched Marcus’ confused face, which was clearly attempting to hide a grin.

“I hate you so much,” Marcus mumbled as the smile finally escaped and rested on his face. He jumped over to Jesse, pinning him down on the duvet, ready to attack him with another clash of their lips.

“Going for round two already? I’m that good, huh,” Jesse smirked, to the amusement of Marcus, who giggled, whispering a quick ‘shut up’ and then kissed him.

A hotter and more aggressive kiss than their first one, Jesse slipping his tongue into the younger boy’s mouth and clinging to his shirt, so hard that if he had pulled any harder, he would have entirely ripped it.

And lord, did it feel good, and did his heart practically feel like it was going to rip out of his chest at any second. And did Jesse live for it.

As they lay there, in piles of Jesse’s (and Marcus’) folded clothes, entirely wrapped in each other, Jesse finally understood one thing, one thing that he’d failed to get over and over again, one thing that if someone had just told him, things would have been so much easier:

Jesse likes attention. But he loves Marcus infinitely more.


End file.
